


Bad Blood

by fotability



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, Kings AU, M/M, Mad King Ryan, War, and lots of flashbacks, how do you tag uh, it's all more in the flashbacks, mild ramwood by the way, minecraft kings au, probably going to have a torture scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:11:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fotability/pseuds/fotability
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been no secret that the Ramsey kingdom and the Haywood kingdom have hated each other for years. There's no surprise when a war is waged, and in the midst of it all Gavin gets taken as prisoner to Ryan's kingdom. While being held captive, he meets the Mad King's prince, Michael, and together they're left to face the worst of Ryan's anger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> First fic actually published in the RT/AH fandom, and I'm really proud of it to say the least. The rating is at M for now - and I'm not sure how far it will be pushed but it might end up being changed to Explicit later on. Just a bit of a warning. Also prepare yourself for flashbacks and history lessons, because there'll be a lot of that as this goes on. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

It almost seems unreal, how quickly life had changed for Gavin and the Ramseys. How over the course of a few simple days, Geoff was rallying troops together, packing supplies by the masses to last who-knows how long, and kissing his family goodbye. Before he knew it, Geoff is stepping away from his wife, Griffon, and Gavin is encased in a bruising hug. He pats her back, a show of comfort, before stepping away and kneeling down in front of Millie, arguably one of Gavin’s _bestest_ friends.

 

“You’ll be back, okay Gavin?”

 

“Of course I will, Mill,” and it’s all he can do to keep her from knowing the sad truth - that there was no guarantee that either of them will come back. Walking out to war was like walking to your death, and when your enemy happens to be the Haywoods, there was a low chance of survival. Griffon let out something that sounded like a strained attempt at holding back a sob, and Gavin reached out to pull the two of them into a tighter hug. When he felt Geoff’s hand tap his shoulder, Gavin released the two of them and stood up straight.

 

“Be good to your mother, okay Millie?” Geoff grinned, a half hearted attempt at lightening the mood, and when the little girl nodded enthusiastically, the two turned and walked out.

 

Thankfully, Millie didn’t need to know that the odds were against them. Instead, she waved goodbye, and was ushered away by her mother once the two men disappeared from their view.

 

A heavy silence fell on the two, and for a moment Gavin was going to break it with a remark that was sure to break the tension before Geoff said something. Or, at least, it was more that Geoff was trying to say something, but ultimately failing as he let out a sigh. It seemed that by that point, there wasn’t much that he was going to say that could ease Geoff’s mind of whatever seemed to be weighing him down. Literally, he was slumped over as he took heavy steps in pace with Gavin’s, and he could have sworn that it looked like each limb weighed twenty pounds each. When Geoff spoke up, though, Gavin’s ears perked.

 

“You know, Gav, Griffon and I had a fight just a night ago. About me leaving?” Geoff looked over, as if checking to see if Gavin was even listening to him. When he was satisfied enough, Geoff continued. “She didn’t want me going out to battle alone, said I’d end up dying out there without her to watch out for me. I told her that we couldn’t leave Millie behind without anyone to look after her - because, you know, what if I don’t come back?” Geoff paused, choking on his words before clearing his throat. “Even though she agreed with me, she didn’t like it.”

 

Gavin let the silence settle down, picking his words carefully as he plodded next to Geoff, step for step. It was as though, for once, he was at a loss for words. They both were. They’d be going out to war, against an opponent known for his insanity, known for his brutality in battles. Yet, somehow, Gavin held the hope that they’ll both come back smiling close. It’s one of the few things he has left, he added sadly, minus Geoff and the friends he’d made throughout the years of being brought up as an archer.

 

“You’ll come back, Geoffrey. I know you will.”

 

Gavin sincerely hoped that he was right.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan stood in the mirror, mere weeks before the proclamation of war was delivered to the Ramsey’s doorstep, watching as his handmaiden straightened his robes. It was a good day, and he wore one of the rare bright smiles on his face. Red and black, the colors of the Haywood house, and the colors of a true nobility - if he did say so himself. A brief chuckle and weird look from his handmaiden later, and Ryan was waving the young lady away.

 

“Go tend to your other chores, I’ll be fine on my own.” After a ‘yes, sire,’ was heard, earning another bright grin from Ryan, she was gone, and he was alone. Left to inspect himself in the mirror, smile slowly shrinking into something more acute to a grimace. If only his father could look at him now, see just how great of a king his son was, better than that old man ever was. The older Haywood was surely running the kingdom into the ground, and without Ryan’s iron grip, it would have collapsed entirely. At least now the economy was starting to rise, the military was as strong as ever before, and although the townspeople weren’t entirely happy with their new owner, they also weren’t desperate enough to leave.

 

A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts, and after blinking a few times, Ryan managed to throw back on his prize-winning smile.

  
  


“Enter,” was the only thing needing to be said before the heavy oak doors creaked open to reveal a mop of brown hair. His Prince, the one who seemed to keep the masses under some sort of control. Ryan couldn’t wrap his head around it, how the general populace seemed to love his hot tempered heir more than he loved him - after all, it wasn’t Michael who did all the work to shovel this kingdom out of it’s depression.

 

Ryan shook away the thoughts, instead focusing on smiling down at Michael.

 

“A pleasure to see you, Michael.”

 

“And you, my King.” Always with the formalities, Michael knew by now that he was in the clear when it came to calling Ryan by whatever it was that he pleased. Unfortunately, Ryan had also given up on correcting the boy. If he wanted to continue with it, then by all means, he could go right on ahead.

 

“Any news yet on the Ramsey kingdom?”

 

“None. Either they haven’t received the message yet, or they’ve chosen to ignore it.”

 

“If they wish to go to war, I want you to help me lead the military to our victory.”

 

“As you wish.”

 

Even if Ryan knew that Michael could control the army with ease, there were still a few things he needed to learn. While his Mogar had the capabilities of being a great leader, there was still the slight issue of him being too soft. A king could win a battle, but a truly great king could instill a certain amount of fear into his enemies that would keep them from having to battle again. It was one of the few ways that Ryan had earned his crowned achievement of becoming the Mad King.

  
Feared by all, but conquered by none.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lengthier, and maybe a little hard to follow. Gavin's singular chunk is supposed to be during the war, whereas both of Michael's chunks are around a week before they even march out. It's the only time I plan on doing time jumps like that, and I'm sorry if it's a tad confusing. Otherwise, I'll try to update this as close to weekly as possible, with the exception of occasionally school getting in the way. Enjoy!

 

Michael let out the deep breath that he didn’t know he was holding once the heavy oak doors clicked closed behind him. The guards stationed outside paid him no heed, and instead let him just walk down the hallway, tension crackling all the way in his wake. What Michael really needed was some time away from Ryan, a lifetime away from Ryan sounded about right.

 

Instead, he was greeted with the grinning sight of his best friend, Ray. The tension that had settled in his shoulders released, and Michael stood up a little straighter as he smiled back at his friend.

 

“Let’s go out to the gardens.” Of course, Ray and his fucking gardens. No doubt he wanted to check up on the roses that were planted down there. But Michael didn’t mind, even though he’d much rather be out in the training yard with his sword and armor. At the same time, he knew that it was something that typically tended to please Ryan as well, and that just so happened to be a problem.

 

He didn’t want to lead everyone into war - or, reworded, he didn’t want to lead anyone into war with Ryan. Despite what everyone thought, he did in fact love Ryan, if for the lack of a better word, but he wasn’t accustomed to Ryan’s war-style. No one was. That was why he always won, because the unsaid rules that were set down in a time for war were all but ignored by the Mad King, and it was just another thing Michael hoped to soon change.

 

“Can we grab Kerry and Caleb, too? They’ll probably want to take a break.”

 

“Why the fuck not?” Ray gave a lopsided grin to Michael, and Michael gave one back. “How about you go get them, and I’ll just meet you down there. Okay?” A series of nods, and before long Ray had disappeared down the corridor, leaving Michael alone to his thoughts.

 

Just fucking great.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It took everything Gavin had to keep himself from heaving a huge sigh at the map spread out before him. Dan to his left, and some bulkier man who was in charge of the fleet to his right - and Geoff standing tall as ever in front of the three of them. They were discussing plans, strategies, and while Gavin promised that he was listening, he just couldn’t wrap his head around what exactly was going on.

 

Something had put Geoff on edge, something that he refused to tell despite Gavin’s consistent asking on what was bothering him. It wasn’t Millie, Geoff reassured him, or Griffon. After Gavin had assured that he wasn’t going to be dying in the battle or anything ( or, at least, he didn’t plan to ), Geoff seemed to be a little off-edge, but there was still something obviously eating at him.

 

“So, we need to attack from the rear. Destroy their supply lines, and kick the living shit out of them. Try not to kill anyone, if it can be avoided - I know that Ryan isn’t going to be holding back, but I want to keep casualties to a minimum if we can.” Everyone nodded slowly to what Geoff had said, and with that it seemed like he was nearly finished. “I believe that we can win this if everything goes our way.”

 

“That’s usually the plan, sir.” The bulky one spoke that time, Gavin distinctly remembering that his name was Jack - originally a lumberjack before finding out that he was just hiding from his old kingdom. In actuality, he was trained just as much as everyone else in the room was, and he was apparently going to be some big shot military leader under Queen Barbara’s monarchy. Why he ran away was a mystery that seemed to change upon being asked, another reason why no one really did ask anymore.

 

With that, the three of them were dismissed. Dan shot Gavin a grin, combined with a “I’m hitting the hay, B” before disappearing along with Jack behind the tent flaps. Unfortunately, that left Gavin and Geoff alone, though Geoff didn’t seem to take any notice of the other lingering around.

 

“Geoffrey?” It was on rare occasions that Gavin would use the king’s full name. Then again, he was one of the few who really knew that Geoff didn’t care what he was called by - so long as it wasn’t absolutely rude. It was almost like the title of king made him uncomfortable, but he seemed to hide it well.

 

“Gavin. What’s up, buddy?” Turning around, Geoff fixed him with a bright grin, and Gavin could have sworn that in that moment if they weren’t stood in a tent with war plans laid out just to the side that their predicament could almost be considered homey. It sure did remind Gavin of home - playing games with Millie in the gardens as Griffon assisted the chefs with the meals and Geoff tended to the kinglier duties. It almost brought a similar smile to Gavin’s face, except for the weight of the situation at hand.

 

He needed to know.

 

“There’s something that’s been bothering you for a while and I may or may not be the only one really noticing but-” momentarily Gavin was at a loss for words, and he frowned to himself as he paused for a moment to collect his thoughts “-But I’m worried. Bloody worried, Geoff. There’s something just eating at you and it’s going to really get to you if you don’t tell someone. I want to help.”

 

A moment of pause. Geoff’s grin turned into a frown, and if Gavin didn’t know him better, he almost would have said that it was out of anger.

 

“I can’t, Gavin.”

 

“Can’t what? Tell me? If you can’t tell me then who can you tell?”

 

“It’s my own problems to deal with, Gav.” There was pleading in his voice, and if Gavin weren’t pushed to the edge of wondering already, he would have pressed for more. But he couldn’t think past his own flare of anger - why didn’t Geoff want to tell him? Because he couldn’t trust him? Did he think that perhaps Gavin was too immature or young to handle what was bothering him?

 

If he could lead his own squad of men to their deaths, then he could handle knowing a few grim words from his best friend.

 

“I just want you to know that you can tell me anything.” Without a second thought, without a moment’s hesitation, Gavin turned on his heel and left the way he came. The tent flaps billowed after him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ray managed to collect Kerry and Caleb, and the two of them were laying out in the rare patch of grass in the garden, staring up at the clouds. Occasionally, one of them would notice a pattern, like how that particular cloud looked like a chicken - to which, Ray named Conrad like the idiot he was - and just chat between each other.

 

Each and every one of them had their own problems. Kerry’s major problem was that he was tasked with listening to the lower-class citizens complain about their needs. Although it was typically a king’s job, Ryan had decreed that he could do whatever the fuck he pleased and passed it on to his royal squire. Meanwhile, Michael really felt sorry for the guy, having to deal with Ryan on a more daily basis than Michael even had to. Either way, Kerry hated his job, he’d be constantly spewing about how farmers would need more land to farm, but then there would be another group of people who needed the land for, say, a new church. Whatever. It was all too dumb to care about for Michael anyway.

 

Ray’s general problem was, well, he was tasked with helping come up with a strategy. Whatever Geoff was planning on doing, he had to make sure that they had a way around it as well as a way to follow up their own attack. It wasn’t nearly as bad as some, especially since it gave him and Michael more of an excuse to hang around each other. Though, Ryan was apparently really hammering on the stress of the war plans being great - punching in that Geoff was a dirty player and no matter what he could not be trusted for a mere moment. According to Ryan, Geoff was among the scum in the world, and that was why he needed to be stamped out.

 

On the other hand, Caleb’s problem was that he simply couldn’t think for himself. Of course, he didn’t really know it, but Michael could cue in on the fact when he followed every order to the letter. It was a little annoying in all honesty, but he loved Caleb all the same. Unfortunately, that left him to practically being a doormat for everyone else in the kingdom.

 

Then there was Michael’s major problem - having to follow through with Ryan’s expectations that he held for wartime. Well, Ryan had certain standards for everything that Michael was all but forced into doing, and sometimes those standards included going further over the edge than he preferred. Much further over the edge. Sometimes, it just downright disgusted him how far he’d go just to please Ryan - because, really, that’s what everyone craved. Please the Mad King, and maybe you’ll be spared. Follow his every order and you’ll be fine, held in high respects if you’re lucky. Michael was a fool if he didn’t say that he craved it the most.

 

“That one looks like a dick.” A chorus of laughter erupted from the group of them. “No- I’m serious! It’s got a shaft and all, look!” Ray pointed indignantly up towards the cloud, grin plastered on his face as he looked over at the three of them.

 

“As much as a cloud would.” Caleb agreed, of course.

 

“Would you say it looks like any one dick in particular, or just a dick in general?” There was Kerry, questioning everything like it was his damn job. Actually, it really was.

 

“I don’t know, Ray, how many dicks have you seen in your lifetime?” Michael propped himself up on his elbows to give Ray smile. “Is this from personal experience?”

 

“Of course I have, Michael. Last time I checked, I had a dick.”

 

“Might want to check again,” Kerry piped up, earning a swift kick from Ray in the process and another chorus of laughter. Michael then picked himself up off the grass, brushing down his robes - primarily silks nowadays - before holding out a hand to Ray.

 

“We have to plan, remember? ‘There’s no time to waste when you’re in a war’.” Michael stood stiffer as he did his best Ryan impression, to which Ray rolled his eyes before grabbing Michael’s wrist and pulling himself up as well.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Later you two losers.” Ray saluted to Kerry and Caleb, still chilled out on the grass and laughing at their newest cloud addition. After they waved goodbye, Michael and Ray made their way to Ryan’s study.

 

Michael could have sworn that a knot settled in his stomach as they pushed past the heavy oak doors.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few things that you should know before reading this chapter. First, it opens up with a good 800 words of history - of which, you could easily skip if you're only interested in the modern aspect. However, when writing, I do like to take a part of the world building experience of it all, and the history is essential if you care to know the origins of the kingdoms, or where the "newer" religion started. There's also a few events that happened that may be mentioned later - the Four Kingdoms Treaty and Battle of Kingdoms. The rest of this chapter focuses on Gavin.
> 
> Second, I have decided on a schedule instead of just posting chapters immediately after writing and proofreading. Every Friday there will be an update, unless for whatever reason I am completely unable to.
> 
> This chapter is long, so enjoy!

Before there were the countless kingdoms and independent villages that dotted the lands, back when the forests were plentiful and the wilderness was untamable, there was anarchy. Man fought man, and no woman or child was safe in the dead of night. Unspeakable crimes were committed without a second thought, and the world could have been considered a terror to even the most fearless of warriors.

 

Through the anarchy, though, four kingdoms arose.

 

Each kingdom started with a man. Nowadays, they could have been considered friends, seeing as how they didn’t blatantly murder one another upon sight like most would. Instead, the four of them spoke of a new era, where man would no longer have to be afraid of death in the night. Where man would be able to be bound together, relying on one another through the worst and best of times.

 

A new time, where man would no longer be considered as savages ( or, at least, that’s how the history lessons would teach ).

 

Each man was given a name, and it was through this name that they reigned - Burnie Burns, Joel Heyman, Matt Hullum, and Gus Sorola. All four men, after some time convincing that their idea was the new way, managed to get a certain follower base.

 

However, all was not as easy as they were led to believe. It became apparent that each had a different idea for how the world should be ruled - and it was through the bloodiest battle ( now named the Battle of Kingdoms ) that they came to the conclusion to create four separate kingdoms instead. To rule their own kingdoms in the way that they deemed fit, and may the best kingdom make it through the winter and prosper like no other.

 

Gus’s kingdom was ruled in a strict, orderly fashion. There was little crime, as he had put much of his focus into the military - and unfortunately, the winter proved to be quite a challenge as they ran dangerously low on food supplies as the months became cold. But, he did provide a valuable service in protecting the other three kingdoms from the wildlings, savages that refused to join the four in their hopes to create a better world.

 

Joel’s kingdom was more laid back, but what they lacked in military they made up for in a plentiful harvest. An abundance of food, they were able to help out the other kingdoms throughout winter, giving food to the needy, and their fellow kingdoms in exchange for help guarding against the greedier wildlings.

 

Matt’s kingdom seemed to run more on wealth and intelligence. It was his kingdom that established a certain currency, and it was his kingdom that came up with the Four Kingdoms Treaty ( peace was to be made between the Burns, Sorola, Heyman and Hullum kingdoms so long as they continued to help with each other ). Technology - as advanced as anything was going to get in such early days - usually came from this kingdom, and was spread to the others through a trading system, also brought up by Matt’s kingdom.

 

Burnie’s kingdom, on the other hand, was migratory. They followed animal herds, relying on the earth that they travelled over, the friendlier wildlings that they’d meet, and occasionally the other kingdoms on their treks. Where Matt created the trading system, Burnie’s kingdom could have been considered the merchants, as they were the most trusted with dispersing the goods throughout the kingdoms on their trevels.

 

For a long while, peace remained. Sons ruled in their father’s place, and the four men were not forgotten, but instead much later worshipped as gods. For, without them, the world would still be sitting in anarchy, man would still fight man, and no one would be safe for what was to come.

 

But, the peace was never to last for long. Eventually, four kingdoms became eight, then sixteen, and then multiplying to become dozens upon dozens. Some bigger than others, some more powerful than others, and all of them having little fragments from the original four. With more kingdoms came clashes for land, clashes for power, for wealth. Human greed took over all else, and for a while it seemed that anarchy would once again strike.

 

Instead, a shaky peace was struck. A peace that the Haywood kingdom shattered the day they declared war against the Ramseys.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The quiver that rested naturally between his shoulder blades hardly moved as he pulled out an arrow, running his fingers along it before notching it along the bow string. He could almost hear Geoff’s voice coaching him along, pull it taut, Gav, and then let it loose like a bird from a cage. A deep breath, to steady himself, as Gavin waited for the signal. The second in command to his left waiting to give the signal - a simple hand motion that would be given the moment Gavin said when. Dan was a terrible shot, honestly. Then again, that was why he was second in command - because what he lacked for in aim he made up for in leadership. Gavin was glad to have him by his side.

 

It was then that Gavin saw it - out of the corner of his eye, Geoff’s white horse starting the charge forwards. That was the signal. That meant he was supposed to fire the arrows, but Gavin instead waited just a little longer. He could make it, do more damage if the arrows hit from a slightly closer range than from as far away as Ryan’s soldiers were.

 

Just a few more, precious moments as Dan hissed a ‘what the bloody hell are you waiting for?’ before Gavin took a deep breath and let the first arrow go. Let it fly like the bird it was, through the sky, to embed itself into someone’s armor far away from him. Mere seconds later, there was a whole flock of sharp birds flying their way after his, single lonesome one. They rained down upon the squad below, and it was at that moment that Gavin notched another arrow.

 

One after another, the arrows were released - but it wasn’t enough. There were simply too many well trained soldiers for Geoff to fight, and after the first storm of arrows, Ryan’s archers were then able to pinpoint where Geoff’s were. That’s when the real fun began, having to watch the sky above them for any dangerous projectiles that suddenly wanted to plant themselves in his flesh. The thought made him shudder.

 

Or, it would have, if Gavin weren’t almost solely focused in firing arrow after arrow into the enemy.

 

The rest of the events happened far too fast for him to grasp it. A blur of memories, really, now that Gavin looked back on them. It started with Geoff’s retreat, pulling his own group back - and at that moment one of the stray arrows had found it’s mark. It landed right in Gavin’s shoulder, and holy hell did it hurt. He couldn’t pull back his bow string with an arrow sending shooting pains up his neck, and on his way of pulling it out, the arrow was joined by another friend, just missing a very vital organ.

 

Every moment past that was black.

 

 

* * *

 

 

His consciousness was met with the same black nothingness, followed by a cold that shook him to his bones. Gavin gasped, and then coughed, before he was met was a harsh pain in his stomach, followed by another in his shoulder. Groaning, he let his head loll to the side, eyes adjusting to the darkness to show that he was no longer on the battlefield.

 

Instead, there was a dusty wet smell that surrounded him, and with a vice grip to his heart, Gavin knew immediately that he was in a dungeon. While Geoff didn’t particularly take use of his dungeon, it still existed, and almost resembled the cold, stone walls that he stared at. His eyes burned, almost as if there was dirt in them, and the prickling feeling of tearing up was what caused him to reach up in attempts to wipe the droplets away.

 

Except that his arms were bound down, to the chair that he was conveniently trapped in.

 

Panic was the first thing he felt, taking deep breaths to keep himself generally calm as his mind ached to find a reason as to why he’d possibly be locked up. He was wounded in battle, but why would Geoff throw him in the dungeons? The king hated his dungeons, and Gavin’s head hammered in protest as he gave up trying to come to any conclusion. Instead, he focused on the barely audible buzz of conversation that was distanced far away.

 

“Hello?” Gavin winced, his voice sounding far too cracked to be his own. How long was he out? A few hours? A few days? He had no way of knowing. “Is anyone around?” Clearing his throat helped a little, but ultimately he was thirsty. Incredibly thirsty. In fact, some water would do more than help him.

 

The sound of footsteps echoed around, and the wooden door creaked open to view someone who looked far too comfortable in his clothes to be just a guard. Fine silks was not guard’s clothing. But the man didn’t stop, instead grabbing a candle from behind him, and taking it as he held it up to Gavin’s face.

 

“Morning, sleepyhead. Did you enjoy your nap?” A wicked smile set Gavin even further into a chill, and he couldn’t help himself from shivering. If he weren’t bound to a metal chair, he’d have scooted away from the man. “I hope so, I was getting a bit impatient. I almost killed you, but then again, you are a rather nice present from dear Geoffrey, aren’t you?”

 

At that, a hand reached out, and forcibly pulled Gavin’s chin up. Meanwhile, he refused to look the crazed man in the eye - why should he? Instead, Gavin angled his eyes to the side, focusing on the stone work.

 

“A rather rude one at that. You ought to learn to be polite to those who give you hospitality fast, little bird.” The hand was removed, and Gavin’s head slumped back down, chin meeting his chest in a rather painful manner. He opted to close his eyes. “Did he ever actually teach you manners, or were you brought up like you were raised in a barn? I could understand if he didn’t, it’s typical of the Ramsey nature, you see.”

 

Again, Gavin said nothing. He instead stared at the kilt before him, almost tracing the checked pattern with his eyes.

 

“Stubborn, too, perhaps. That’s quite alright, the stubborn ones are the most fun to break. Just you wait, the things I have in store for you!” A dark chuckle, the candlelight was taken away, and instead a piece of bread was pushed to his lips. Despite every nerve telling him to turn away, to dismiss the piece of bread entirely, his stomach said otherwise as Gavin greedily bit down.

 

Or, he would have, had the bread not been taken away, leaving Gavin to bite down on the air before him. Another series of chuckles surrounded him as he looked up at the man, betrayal roaring in his ears. The chuckles ceased to a tutting sound, and the identified king Ryan leaned back down to eye level.

 

“Welcome to The Hole, little bird. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

  
With that, the Mad King was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry this is so incredibly late. A lot of things came up, including the death of my computer and a prolonged grounding, but everything seems to be back in order now. Enjoy the new chapter!

After the battle had ceased, Geoff’s army retreating far earlier than he would have anticipated, and the moment they had set up a new camp further back, Geoff called for a meeting. Jack and Dan were already waiting in front of the spread out map when the tent flaps billowed, signaling that Geoff had entered. All three were worse for wear, Jack with more bruises and Dan actually bandaged up in a place that looked like he was pierced with an arrow. Geoff felt the urge to grimace, but held back as he instead took his place at the head of the table, pouring himself a large glass of ale.

 

“Where’s Gavin?” The brunette’s absence was noticed almost immediately, and while Geoff had hoped that he’d only been late for the millionth time, once he’d handed out drinks to his two highest commanding officers, there was still no Gavin. Jack looked expectantly to the door, as if hoping that the quirky boy would waltz in the door as if nothing were wrong, brightening up the solemn atmosphere as he usually did. Dan, instead, looked down, focusing on the section of the map in front of him for a moment.

 

“He’s gone.” It started off quiet, and Geoff almost didn’t hear anything from archer, before Dan cleared his throat and repeated himself. Louder, more sure of what he was saying. “I saw it all- He got hit in the stomach, a fatal wound if not treated immediately, and that was when Ryan’s troops came in on us.” He cringed, taking a moment to calm himself down as if recalling the events was as painful as living through them. “I got pulled away in time -” a quick motion to his arm, still bleeding profusely, “- but we had to leave Gavin. He’s probably dead, sir.”

 

A dead silence fell over the room, Geoff still holding his ale to his lips.

 

“Did you see him die? Did you see him take his last breath?” Geoff set the ale down, fixing Dan with a look of desperation. “Did you actually see the light leave his eyes?”

 

“No, sir. But no one has lived from having an arrow through their stomach.”

 

“He’s right, Geoff,” this time, it was Jack who said something. The frown on his face read ‘I’m sorry,’ almost pitying, and Geoff’s grip on his glass tightened.

 

He heaved a sigh, mumbling something under his breath before glancing at the fire set up in the middle of the tent. In a quick fit of rage, Geoff’s wine glass flew into the flames, to which the fire ate greedily.

 

“Leave. We’ll discuss things in the morning.” Jack nodded, Dan looked a little concerned, and within moments they had left Geoff alone. Once his tent door was sealed shut properly, Geoff’s arm flew up to his mouth, and he coughed into it - a racking kind of cough, that sent him bowled over and panting to catch his breath.

 

After a moment, he sat at his desk and started writing. A letter to Griffon and Millie, detailing how Gavin Free was killed in the line of service. At the hand of Ryan Haywood - be it true or not.

 

With revenge, Geoffrey Ramsey.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_one week before-_

 

The door swung shut behind Ryan, and Gavin was left alone hanging by his arms in what the man had called The Hole. Darkness suddenly encased his vision, and the tiny window at the top of his cell didn’t seem to brighten up the cell any longer. Instead, all Gavin could do was lean forward, letting his arms pull behind him, held in place by short chains.

 

Too short to sit, too exhausted to stand, Gavin was caught somewhere in the middle. His eyes were drooping shut, but it was damn near impossible to fall asleep. Instead, he took a deep breath, and summoned up his will to yell.

 

“Hello?! Anyone?” No answer, no footsteps, instead he was wholly alone. Left to feel the burn in his shoulders from leaning away from the dirty walls, left to feel the gnawing of his stomach, and more importantly left to feel the ache in his chest that reminded him that he wasn’t in the Ramsey kingdom anymore.

 

This was the Mad King’s domain. No one left The Hole except in a casket. Everyone heard the stories, of Edgar. The man who was a neanderthal at best - what he did to anger Ryan changed every time, but the story Gavin knew best was that he stained the royal silks. Ryan locked him in the dungeons for weeks, before eventually finishing the man off in a swift flash of mercy. Being away from civilization had driven the man insane, and Ryan instead adopted him as an experiment. Edgar was kept in The Hole, and as Ryan dabbled more and more in the art of sorcery, Edgar became his test subject.

 

From there, the story varies more. Some say Edgar still lives in The Hole, haunting it. Some say that Edgar died, and passed on to the land of the dead. Others said that Edgar never existed anyway, but typically those people were never heard from again.

 

Whether days or mere hours had passed, Gavin wasn’t certain. It was impossible to keep track of time from his place in the cell, but before long the door swung open again. The man who walked in wasn’t Ryan, instead looked like a scrawnier, more hesitant. Candlelight flickered in the room, and suddenly Gavin was given a face to remember.

 

“I’m Kerry, and I’m here to give you longer chains.” Mutely, Gavin nodded, the throbbing in his head from dehydration setting in, and for a moment he could have sworn that the flash on Kerry’s face was that of pity. Kerry had walked behind him, pulling up a pair of chains that were, indeed, much longer than the ones Gavin was hooked up to.

 

After the chains were replaced, Gavin all but fell to the floor, first to his knees before leaning with his back pressed against the wall. The boy turned as if to leave, and it took all of Gavin’s strength to call out - “Water?” - before he erupted into a fit of coughing. Of course, his voice was raspy, as if he were speaking through sand. Though, the boy seemed to not hear him, disappearing behind the door from where he came, taking the light with him.

 

Gavin almost cried out again, with more force, before Kerry reappeared with a platter. His face looked sad, that pitying smile once again, as he sat it down at Gavin’s feet. Some soup, soggy bread, and a tin cup of water. He fought the urge to gag.

 

“I’m sorry, truly. I-It’s not my fault you’re in here. This is probably the most food you’ll be getting in a while, so, I suggest eating all of it.” With that, Kerry had disappeared, leaving the light and leaving Gavin to stew in his thoughts.

 

He just hoped that Geoff and Dan were okay.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Michael woke up that morning, nothing was different. He woke up to his squire, replacing the flowers that decorated his brightly colored room. Said squire ran off to grab his hand servant, who came back and replaced his nightclothes with the required silks of an heir. Black and red, to his distaste, the colors of a Haywood. Once his silks were straightened, his hand servant tending to the messy curls that happened to be his hair, Michael was deemed ready to leave his room.

 

Kdin, his squire, was waiting for him outside. Brief greetings were given, formalities hanging in place, and before long the two were off to the first place of business, in an awkward silence. Michael didn’t care much, whether he enjoyed the presence of Kdin or not, it always was nice to have someone who wasn’t willing to judge him at every notion. Michael could have said it was relaxing, even.

 

“Ryan wants you to stay here, he’ll visit briefly. Help yourself to food.” With that, Kdin was gone, as if the very threat of Ryan’s presence scared him. Michael couldn’t say that he blamed the other, as he was starting to feel a chill of his own now that he stood in the spacious dining hall alone. Something about the meeting place spooked Michael, how Ryan seemed to only pick meeting places where he kept things hidden. For example, the painting of Father Haywood, king before Ryan, actually opened up to a small safe that held a dagger. Quick to access, and more importantly one of the few things that only he and Ryan knew about the castle. Little areas such as that painting were littered everywhere, specifically in areas where Ryan would hold company. The king had issues when it came to trust, and more importantly, if he felt threatened, he wasn’t one to hold back on it.

 

Ryan was unfortunately well known for The Hole, but not his ruthlessness outside of the battlefield. It only so happened to be that outside of battle, word about the Haywood kingdom tended to stay put, rumors only leaving when Ryan wanted them to. The Hole? Started by Kerry, under the command of Ryan, and spread to the other kingdoms through traders. There were a few others, but among the many things that the outside kingdoms didn’t know about, Michael had difficulties distinguishing the two.

 

Just another thing to fix when he finally became king.

 

The doors slid open, and Michael turned into an automatic bow, along with a mumbled my liege. Stay down until told to return, that was the rule. Ryan took his place at the head of the dining table, a chair glittering with diamonds and gold, crown adorned on his head as if a reminder that he still reigned, and still planned on reigning for a long time yet.

 

“Rise, prince Mogar. Please, take the seat to my left, we have much to discuss.” A curt nod, Michael took the seat - albeit with hesitance. Once his chair was scooted back into place, servants poured from the doors, plates of food for a feast. Except, the room only occupied the two of them, but Michael had learned long ago not to ask questions. They’d be answered in time, and if not, then it was not his place to know anyway.

 

Once Ryan had filled his plate, Michael doing the same with his own, the servants had left. A silence had fallen on the two of them, Michael waiting for Ryan to take his first bite before delving into his own breakfast. It had been a few moments before Ryan set down his eating utensils, and Michael looked over at him expectantly.

 

“The last battle went smoothly. Your idea to strike from the side of the troops was ingenious.” Michael had left out the fact that it was, instead, Ray who thought of the strategy. Ryan didn’t seem to care either way. “More importantly, we managed to capture a very valuable token.”

 

It was then that everything made sense. Ryan had called Michael up to show something off, of course. Michael would have called himself an idiot before the doors swung open once again, a group of knights that were unfamiliar to him stepping in. Chains rattled, and in the knights stood in a square-like formation, hiding whatever seemed to be in the center. With a wave of his hand, Ryan sent the knights splitting, and in the center was a man.

  
Or, at least, Michael thought it was a man. He looked more like a cow being led to the slaughter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much to say other than it's shorter than usual. enjoy, friends.

From inside the tent, the person standing outside could hear a sudden eruption of coughing. Pausing, the burlesque man gave his king some time to compose himself before pushing the tent flaps aside, and stepping in. His first glimpse was of Geoff folding his handkerchief in half a few times, grim look across his face, before pocketing it.

 

When he turned to face Jack, the man almost looked himself. Except for the sunken eyes, paler features, and disheveled hair. Jack figured it was probably to do with the disappearance of Gavin, Geoff taking it harder than even Dan had. Either way, Jack could say that he was a little concerned for his king, and had thought of bringing up surrender in more than a few ways. There would be less casualties, and more importantly, it would give Geoff time to go home and spend time with his daughter and wife.

 

“Sir, I think we should surrender.”

 

The silence that followed his words was unnerving, and Jack waited for Geoff to completely dismiss anything Jack had to say. It was what happened last time, and the time before than almost immediately after Gavin had been killed in the line of duty. Both times Geoff stood true, telling Jack that there was no way in hell that he was turning away from Ryan - not when things were personal. Correction, more personal than they already were.

 

“I think you’re right, Pattillo.”

 

Jack blinked. “Wait. Really?”

 

“There’s no way that we can win against Ryan. He’s willing to take too many risks, risks that I’m not willing to take. We’ll go back, though tell everyone else that they could be called back at any time. I’ll call in a few allies to help us defend, but otherwise, we’re done with this war.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“And Jack?”

 

“Yes sir?”

 

“Thank you for staying here, with me.”

 

Jack didn’t say anything as he turned and left, leaving Geoff to sit in silence once again.

 

* * *

 

 

Michael watched as Ryan pushed his chair back, a glint in his eye that put Michael on edge. The battle in which they’d won was weeks ago, which would have meant that Ryan had this prisoner for nearly a month. The chained down man looked like he’d been prisoner for longer, exhaustion and hunger evident with how he looked like he could fall over at any time.

 

But there was disrespect in the way he stood, fighting to stay upright despite being weighed down by the chains. His mouth pressed in a line, back as straight as it was going to get with the weight on his shoulders. Michael would have been impressed if he weren’t slightly horrified by how long Ryan was keeping such information hidden.

 

“Meet Gavin Free of the Ramsey kingdom. You should remember him, from your lessons.” Ryan had moved from being at the head of the table to standing proudly next to the prisoner. Gavin Free was rather well known across the kingdoms, for more than a few reasons. He’d been taken in at a young age by Geoff, his original home being unknown to many. Gavin was also a well known archer, but he was without bow and arrow while standing in the dining room.

 

“Did you hear what I said, Michael?”

 

Michael blinked, realizing far too late that he was focusing more on Gavin than he was on Ryan.

 

“I’m sorry, your majesty, I didn’t quite hear that.” Michael wished he could shrink down a little, but instead held himself tall. Though, at that, Ryan seemed to look slightly impressed, turning back to Gavin.

 

“I said that he’s our guest, here to stay for as long as it take for dear, dear Geoffrey to realize where his boy has gone.” Michael nodded, curiously eying Gavin up. “He’ll be staying in the dungeons, and I would like for you to write our friend a message. Tell Geoff who we have, maybe remind him of what usually happens to our prisoners.”

 

Another, more curt nod. Ryan didn’t outright say it, but this was a test - a test to see if Michael really could take the kingdom by the reigns. Except, the difference here was simple, if Michael had much of a choice then Gavin wouldn’t be residing in The Hole of all places.

 

“I’ll get right on it.”

 

“Perfect.” Then, Ryan turned to one of the guards that were standing around, mumbling a few things before Michael watched him be escorted off. It didn’t seem that he’d put up much of a fight, seeing as how Gavin didn’t have to be jabbed in the back with hilt of any swords, instead walking back with the air of someone who was demanding attention. Unfortunately, it seemed to be not nearly as much attention as Ryan commanded, who’d returned to his seat next to Michael, gently brushing Michael’s arm to get his attention. Michael raised his eyebrows in question.

 

“I want you to come down to the dungeons tomorrow. It’s about time you see what happens down there.”

 

“To go down there and watch your starve that guy into compliance? Or do you want me to stick a knife into his gut myself?” His voice raised slightly, and it was too late before Michael realized exactly what he had done. Eyes widened, he watched Ryan stiffen, and before he could apologize the sound of a sharp slap filled the room, followed by a stinging sensation on Michael’s cheek. Silence seemed to fill the air as Ryan took his time picking his words.

 

“You will remember that I am king, and that you are merely prince. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be in the wilderness, barely scraping together your next meal. More importantly, you will do as I say. If I tell you to watch, you will watch. If I tell you to ‘stick a knife into his gut’, then you will do so. Do I make myself clear?”

 

Michael nodded mutely, face straight, staring into what was left of his dinner.

 

“May I be excused, your majesty?”

 

With a wave of his hand, Michael was dismissed, promptly shoving his chair away from the table and putting as much distance between himself and Ryan as was physically possible.

  
The dungeon doors loomed ahead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took me forever but it's finally up. going to try going with regular updates from here on out. don't really count on it please.

Thick, oak wood doors that were painted nearly black were common around the Haywood castle. As it stood, oak wood was Ryan's standing favorite -- or, at least, as close as it was going to get. Dark colors, specifically black and red, seemed to be the ongoing trend as well. Michael shifted uncomfortably in his own robes, frowning down at the red sash with disdain. If it were his way, he wouldn't be caught dead in the colors.

It hadn't always gone that way, though Michael seemed to have more and more trouble remembering that clearly. He was not Ryan's blood-born son, the entirety of the seven kingdoms knew that, almost in a similar way as Gavin Free was not Geoff Ramsey's blood-born son. Both were orphaned at a young age, both were taken in by the family of royalty, although for two very different reasons.

Michael's biological parents were hunters, and very dedicated to the trade. They weren't pledged to either kingdom, instead living out in the Land of the Free, beyond where the kingdoms stretched, happily taking home in a hut deep in the woods. They were warriors, fending their home off from those who would have wished ill, and Michael was barely the age of three when it was all taken away from him -- stolen, in fact, from the people his parents had tried so desperately to defend it from. Their hut had burned, his parents slaughtered, and the just-made king, Ryan Haywood, had taken the orphan under his arm, and brought him up as his own.

If Michael could change one thing, it would be that.

His deeply seated hatred for the king was one thing he would never voice aloud, except maybe to Ray. Everyone adored the king, though Michael was certain it was out of fear than out of respect.

Even so, Michael cleared his thoughts, washing away every stray thought of Ryan from his mind as he pushed through the doors, and felt the cool air from the dungeons flutter past him. Although there were torches along the walls, it did nothing to help him with actually seeing, but Michael pulled a torch from it's place easily, making his way cautiously down the stairs.

There were guards littered everywhere, though they paid no heed to the prince. A perk of his status, he was allowed to go just about everywhere (there were a few exceptions, such as Ryan's room) as he pleased, no questions asked. Though, if he wasn't careful, there was certain to be a way of Ryan finding out. He had rats everywhere, and Michael didn't want to be caught out of place by his king finding out of his disdain, or his habits of scourning the crown. Michael rubbed at his cheek absently, almost as if reminding himself that it wasn't the first, and if Ryan had his way, wouldn't be the last.

Though, it didn't stop him.

It seemed there were more guards than necessary stationed outside of one cell, and with a frown Michael looked up at them.

"Move aside." He forced his voice to be firm, to sound like the prince they expected him to be -- assertive, forceful. All of them moved in a swift, fluid movement, four guards in total guarding a single door. It seemed rather ridiculous, almost causing Michael to snicker at the thought of them being so careful as to keep a Ramsey boy under such strict control. From what Michael had heard, King Geoffrey was not someone to be feared.

"This is Gavin Free's cell, is it not?"

"Indeed, Your Highness."

"Then I wish to be alone."

The guard that Michael had addressed looked at him as if he were crazy. Then, after a moment, caught himself, clearing his throat and returning to look ahead.

"Those are not our orders, Your Highness."

"Who's orders were they, then?"

"The King's, sir." Of course they were. Michael could have sworn on the spot.

"The prisoner has been nearly starved for a week now, unable to move. I think I could handle him if he managed to break free of his chains and fight back. Now, leave."

Surely, Ryan was going to hear of this. Then again, Michael wasn't sure that he'd cared. In fact, Michael knew that he didn't give a rat's ass whether Ryan had heard of him ordering around guards or not.

Once the four had started walking off, in a practiced march of course, Michael waited for them to be out of sight before heaving a sigh of relief, and letting his shoulders drop. Being a prince was far too exhausting.

Pushing through the doorway, Michael heard someone scuffle around, and when his light finally reached Gavin, he saw the man push himself as close to the wall as he was going to get.

"It's okay, I'm not here to hurt you." His voice seemed to have softened, trying to coax the prisoner from away from the wall. Or, as far as his chains would allow that, considering how it seemed like the guard in charge of watching over him rather enjoyed the high-chains. Michael made a mental note to have a talk to someone about that.

Though, it seemed as though his statement did nothing to ease the other away.

"I promise, I'm not like those assholes out there. They're cruel, and mean, and they don't understand that treating people like this -- even war prisoners -- is not how you rule a kingdom." A frown, though Michael slowly started inching closer. "I won't hurt you, I'm just going to get a little closer, okay?"

As the light started shining on Gavin, Michael could see that he looked beaten. Not from the dinner, of course, he actually looked rather well put together during the dinner. It was as if they were trying to break him, as if the air he gave off during dinner was the final straw. The guards must have had something to do with it.

Michael settled himself on the door, careful to hold the torch so the light wouldn't go out.

"You'll-," a cough, the person in front of Michael cleared his throat before continuing in a scratchy voice, "You'll dirty your silks, you know."

A shrug was all Michael gave in response, small smile crossing his face.

"You must be Prince Gavin, Ramsey's son."

The other nodded, sliding down the wall in a sit, crossing his legs as he started to relax.

"And you're Prince Michael, correct?"

"In the flesh."

Gavin nodded again, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes.

Michael took that as his cue to leave.

 

* * *

 

Morning light shined in on Michael's face, and he awoke to a grinnng Ryan looming over his bed. A scream got caught somewhere between his vocal cords and his throat, and Michael pushed himself backwards to get away.

"Fucking- You could at least give someone a warning." He frowned up at Ryan, rolling the rest of the way out of bed and taking note of the clothes laid out for him. He sent a silent thank you to Kdin, shedding his nightclothes and throwing on his daywear.

"I'll let that slide since you just woke up." Though, the ice in his voice said otherwise. "We're going to the dungeons after breakfast."

"Yes, sir."

"That's the Michael I want to hear."

Michael simply nodded, biting his tongue, as he continued to get dressed. Ryan seemed to have nothing else to say, instead opting to stay at his place over by the bed and watching. Judging, almost. Michael wanted to yell at him, to punch something before his fist made its way through someone's face.

Instead, he fought his temper to stay neutral.

"You went to the dungeons the other day."

It was not phrased in a question, asking if he was correct in thinking so. It was a statement, because Ryan knew what Michael was up to -- he always did -- and he he was commanding to know why. Michael stayed silent for a moment, straightening buttoning up his shirt before looking up at Ryan, keeping his face straight.

"I wanted to meet Ramsey's boy."

"You commanded the guard away."

"I didn't want them scaring him."

"That's their duty, Michael, especially when I station them there."

"If the guard beats the prisoner, then the prisoner grows scared. I wanted to talk to him without that influence."

For a moment, Ryan looked as though he was about to slap Michael again. Subconciously, Michael could feel his cheek throb with the anticipation. He wondered if there was a bruise left behind, if he was visibly shaking from the thought of Ryan stalking over and slapping him again.

But, Ryan's face seemed to change once again, instead with a grin.

"To get him to trust you before we visit today. A great idea, Michael. I'm proud of you, little bear."

Ryan turned and left, leaving Michael to taste bile in his mouth. Leaving his room, Michael caught the attention of one of the guards outside of his room. Throwing on his prince face, and telling the guard to find Kdin, and tell his handservant from bring his breakfast to his room.


End file.
